Can I rise to the heights my ancestors did?

Charles Spencer's aeronautic ancestors were no strangers to showbusiness.

For four generations my direct ancestors were balloonists, or aeronauts, as they were more glamorously called in those days.

I have always known this, but knew precious little about them, apart from my grandfather, another Charles Spencer, who was trailed behind trawlers in balloons and man-carrying kites during the First World War, trying to spot U-boats beneath the water. Later, he took part in the Gordon Bennett balloon race and ditched in the Skagerrak off the Swedish coast, where he was rescued by a fishing boat. I have a yellowing cutting from the Evening Standard about this, headlined: “Balloon’s plunge into the sea – Captain Spencer’s thrilling adventure – How aeronauts were saved.”

A cousin, Nick Peacey, is now researching the family history and writing a book about it, and he recently led a tour to family graves in both the St Pancras and Islington cemetery and the more famous Highgate cemetery, memorably described by John Betjeman as a Victorian Valhalla. Both cemeteries are beautiful and fascinating places to visit, with their spectacular examples of funerary architecture and the trees in a blaze of autumnal glory.

The first balloonist in the family was Edward Spencer (1799-1849), the chief collaborator of Charles Green, the finest aeronaut of the day. The pair came to national fame (or notoriety) when they ascended in a balloon in Vauxhall Gardens with Robert Cocking suspended in a parachute beneath. Unfortunately, when released from the balloon, the parachute collapsed and Cocking plunged to his death. You can see both the balloon and the parachute beneath in the print of Edward Spencer (above).

Alas, Edward’s gravestone in Highgate cemetery is currently lying flat on its face, though you can see the outline of the carving of a balloon on top.

His son Charles Green Spencer is also buried in Highgate, and set up the firm of CG Spencer and Son, which rapidly became a highly successful ballooning and parachuting business. His son Percival (my great-grandfather) took over the business when his father died. We found his grave in St Pancras and Islington cemetery. Sadly, the stone balloon that once adorned the monument is now missing.

It pleases me greatly that the ballooning Spencers were no strangers to showbusiness. They flew their balloons at fetes and fairs, and members of the family performed acrobatics and parachute jumps from them for the delight of the crowds below. I like to think that I have inherited my love of circus stunts and white-knuckle rides from my ancestors.

I’m ashamed to admit, however, that neither my father nor I have ever been up in a balloon. Dad, at 81, now reckons he’s too old, but I am determined to make an ascent soon, and will report back – provided I don’t go the same way as the unfortunate Cocking.